


Camera Obscura

by sharkinterviewee



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Bad Puns, Bakery, Disguise, Double AU, F/M, I can and will, James Bond References, Jamy, Just for the hell of it, Multichapter, Peraltiago, Strangers, actor amy, all the au i can handle right here, amy equals hot, amy is famous, amys hiding from the popo as in paparazzi, and jakes just a regular dude, and might i say you look pretty hot today too, architecture, architecture wet dream, bad puns are coming, baker!Jake, bakery shop, but he doesnt realize who she is at first, double au prompts in the same universe of this fic?, double au?, double trouble, famous/non-famous, for all your au needs, haha you thought i was gonna say not didn't you?, i can and have, if thats not a term yet then i'm coining it, is that a thing?, jake equals also hot, just because i can, made you look, movie star, puns, reader equals hot, spy games, that settles it, throw in a bit of movie star!Amy and baker!Jake, way too many james bond jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5285249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkinterviewee/pseuds/sharkinterviewee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy Santiago thought her disguise, while shoddy, was well enough to take away any and all attention from her that day. It hid her face just enough so that she could walk around like a normal person, without all of the movie star attraction she garnered lately. But some guy walks up to her and asks her if she's a spy. He can't be serious, right? There's no way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She is the surface

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there are no spoilers for either B99 (cause AU of course) or from any of my James Bond jokes cause I haven't seen any of the films that were released in the 21st century and probably won't anytime soon so no need to fear.

_Now that I have seen your face how could I forget your name_

_Now that I have seen your face how could you expect that of me_

  
  


* * *

  
  


“You're not as sneaky as you think,” a voice said quietly close to her ear, and Amy nearly jumped out of her seat. She looked up and expected to see a huge camera in her face, or 20, but all she saw was a smile. She whipped her head back and forth scanning the area to find the flashes and glares from camera shutters clicking, but no one was focused on her. Except the guy standing beside her.

“Seriously, you look like you just walked out of every spy novel from the last hundred years. If you're honestly trying to give someone the slip you should at least be reading something you can't purchase with a senior citizen discount,” he advised and pulled out one of the metal chairs at the table with a cringing scrape on the concrete and sat beside her.

It wasn't her fault that her disguise was hastily shambled together because she had to get out in the real world that morning, she just had to.

“Peralta. Jake Peralta. I would say 'shaken, not stirred,' but I don't really like martinis either way.”

He peered out into the people ambling across the open square like they were all persons of interest, and Amy tried to figure out his game plan.

He couldn't have realized she was poorly trying to hide her identity without figuring out who she was under it when he was right beside her, could he? Though he was right that the sunglasses, hat, and newspaper were pretty much the undercover trope of the past century. Was he just waiting to get a good shot? Paparazzi were never the patient type, though. Just wait until they had a better shot than everyone else, and then blow it. This guy was right next to her- and he had a great shot. So why was he waiting?

He was cute- in a goofy sort of way. But still a cute sort of way.

“Do I know you... Jake?” She asked carefully. It wasn't like she was the biggest star in the world now, but lately (in the past year especially) she had to wear a disguise, admittedly better than her current one, whenever she went out to not get bothered and recognized. And if he did recognize her and was just trying to trick her for an elaborate scheme, she was sure he would reveal himself with his answer to the question.

“Can't say that I do. Pretty sure I would remember a lower face like yours- ...”

“Amy.”

“Amy,” he smiled. It was true, with her hat and sunglasses not even her forehead was visible.

“So who are we hiding from, Amy? I thought the woman with the stroller at 2 o'clock was pretty suspicious until I saw the baby move independently. So either she's just a normal person or a working mom that is really dedicated to espionage.”

“I'm not hiding from anyone.”

“Uh-huh,” he gave her a sidelong glance full of doubt.

“Don't you have someplace to be? Like a job? Or family? Friends? Somewhere more important than bugging me?”

“Nope.”

“I'm not a spy.”

“That sounds like something a spy would say.”

“That sounds like something anyone would say. I just want to read my newspaper in peace,” she huffed and ruffled the newspaper in her hands for emphasis. She was hoping he would take the not so subtle hint as his cue to leave, but he completely missed it.

“No one reads newspapers anymore,” he argued like it was a fact and not his biased opinion. Even though newspapers had gone out of fashion more recently they were still popular enough to be sold at every corner- and he couldn't just assume that about anyone just in however many seconds they had been talking. So just his opinion.

“I do. I like them.”

“No you don't. You haven't even turned a page in the past 10 minutes.”

“How long have you been watching me?”

Amy usually had pretty good intuition, but she guessed she was really wrong about this guy. She looked all around them and couldn't even find one person more than glancing at them, and definitely no cameras. She'd become well accustomed to catching the sunlight reflecting off of hidden lenses, and she couldn't spot any here. And then there was this guy right next to her, and he was talking to her like she was a normal person. A normal person-ish. This wasn't a normal person conversation at all. But the burden of weirdness seemed to be pushed on him. Why didn't he just admit he knew who she was? Did he really think anyone was that stupid? It was insulting.

“About 10 minutes. I thought someone was gonna come and make a drop or you'd do some super secret spy signal or something, but if you did it's too subtle for me. And I got bored of waiting.”

“Are you... Are you actually serious?” The mere idea that anyone could be making anything other than a joke out of this was incomprehensible. And somehow he almost had her convinced, and that almost was baffling.

“Indeed. And you're dodging my newspaper question.”

“You didn't ask a question, you made a comment. And it's just a really interesting article.”

He turned to her so suddenly that she almost jumped at his piercing eyes.

It wasn't like he had been hiding his face (unlike Amy was). But she hadn't exactly got a good look at it since she was surprised to say the least, and when she regained her composure he just wasn't directly facing her. But when he was, she realized he had a nice face.

His eyes were dark and dancing, and even though he was staring directly into hers- his focus never wavering- she knew the right word was dancing (though she didn't know why).

Then there was his smile.

It was warm and friendly, but there was a certain restlessness about it.

She had never seen impishness imitated correctly on an adult. Most of the people she knew based their whole livelihood on faking expressions well, and none of them were bad at it. By way of her trade as she learned how to mimic emotions on cue, it was easy to spot when people were using the same tricks she used. Even the greatest actors had a bit of hollowness if you looked for it, and Amy was great at spotting the inconsistencies.

Child actors were neither here nor there on the impishness aspect as a single subset, but they had a better (or really only chance) of having a convincing impish look when saying their lines. Because they really did still have that excitement and innocence. It wasn't lost and it wasn't locked away (at least for the best ones).

So some kids were good at the whole impish look, some kids were bad, and every adult was bad. Not necessarily bad, but still see through- it was just a part of growing up.

Even so, her instinct was that Jake wasn't the best faker of impishness she had ever seen, because he wasn't faking.

Even though that totally wasn't possible. The whole premise was completely ridiculous and unrealistic. A million to one chance wouldn't be accurate (mostly it was just an idiom) but she was positive it wouldn't be accurate because it was much more unlikely than those odds.

There had to be something more to this. To him. But she didn't know why- why she believed him and why she wanted to.

Amy considered herself a rational person, and even though she was still human and could be swayed by emotions she prided herself on almost always choosing the logical side of any situation- brain over gut feeling.

But her brain and her gut feeling had never been in such a conflict before.

She knew that, and it was all running through her head at that moment, but it didn't change a thing.

She wanted to trust his smile.

“Okay, don't look down. Now tell me what the article's about.”

Amy was so caught up in her own internal struggle that it took a few seconds for his question to even process and by then she didn't even have a hope of recovering. Flabbergasted and stuttering she tried to think of something, anything- but Jake started smirking and really, it was too late to try to save herself before she began.

“You know you're wearing sunglasses, right? I wouldn't have been able to tell if you looked down anyway.”

While she was wearing huge sunglasses, she was positively paranoid that he could see the burning of her cheeks. And even though he was smirking, it wasn't malicious- more like mischievous. Not wreaking havoc to be mean, but making a mess for the fun of it. That was how he got the whole impish thing down, troublemaker but in a playful way.

Why did she think that? There was something off here. There had to be.

“Are you going to stop bugging me anytime soon?” Amy asked, trying to convey the right level of annoyance and downplaying her confusion.

“Nope,” Jake said easily, without a moment's hesitation.

“Why not? What's in it for you?”

“Staving off my boredom.”

“I'm boring. I am so boring. I'm boring right now,” Amy said and did her best to convince him. If he was telling the truth about having no idea who she was, then he should believe her easily enough- someone with their whole face not even visible and wasn't answering any questions (even though they had to be joking questions).

But Jake just started shaking his head, like she said something amusing. She could almost hear his ego just from the smug expression on his face.

“Nope. You are very, very interesting.”

After a few seconds of no response from her side, he went back to scanning the few people walking around, or others seated at tables near them. He tried to keep up his serious front and looked around at anyone and everyone like they were suspicious and might be hiding a weapon, but every so often he would glance out of the corner of his eye to check if she was still watching him, and the corners of his lips twitched before he got them under control.

The only way he knew she was still watching him was that she was going out of her way to make it obvious. He wouldn't have been able to tell otherwise (her sunglasses really were so dark that no one had a hope of guessing where her gaze landed if she were trying to hid it- or just not actively trying to show it). But Amy wanted him to know she was looking at him- staring really. Staring him down.

She didn't turn her chair, but she turned enough in it to make it clear. Her whole upper torso was facing him directly while the rest of her was angled slightly away from him due to the whole chair thing. But she crossed her arms and was definitely facing him and only him.

Amy tried to frown, but she didn't succeed. She wasn't smiling, and she wasn't completely neutral- but when she tried to make her lower face look at least a semblance of upset she knew she failed. She could feel her lips purse and she tried to stop, but she couldn't. It was her thinking face whenever she was truly puzzled and didn't know what to think- and trying to figure out what to think.

“If I try to leave are you going to follow me?” She tested him, but he wasn't fazed.

“I believe the correct term is shadow.”

“Are you ever going to leave me alone?” Amy asked, even though it was more or less the same question. Phrased differently, but a little more serious way of saying it (with technically a slight difference in meaning, but only slight). Her tone wasn't exactly hostile, but it was wary to say the least.

“Not until you become boring. So spill your spy secrets now or forever hold your peace.”

* * *

 

“You coming, shadow?” She asked after standing up and pushing her chair in and he didn't do the same. It wasn't even 5 minutes since she asked the following question and he used the term shadow, but she wasn't going to sit any longer in the silence. She wanted to figure him out. She would have stayed seated longer, but she had been sitting at that table all morning and could use a walk- and she thought that maybe a change of scenery would give her a better idea of his game plan. But when she got up and he didn't she worried that he wasn't going to come with her, so she basically invited him. That was weird. Why did she do that? There were a million other things she could have done instead.

But she was curious. She wanted to figure him out, because she still couldn't tell yet.

At her question he smiled so brightly that her confusion just about quadrupled.

She was glad he came with her.

* * *

 

“By all means, don't let me stop you from completing your mission,” Jake said once they fell into a steady pace beside each other. Maybe the smart thing to do would've been to stay seated. She had only been in the city for a couple days at that point, so she had no idea where to even go. She could be leading them in circles for all she knew. She didn't even know why she was bothering with this, and why she was playing along.

It didn't help that the city planner should have been fired before any buildings started being built. The streets were a mess and while it was clear that they had been the same for ages, there was no way that a proper architect couldn't fix the place up. The streets weren't even a uniform size from one block to the next, and it was noticeable- why would anyone let that happen if they knew that people were possibly going to live there in the next hundred years? It was irresponsible at best, and it didn't make navigating any easier for her.

“I'm new to the area,” she explained, but when she caught his knowing look she added quickly “But I'm not a spy.”

“Sure you aren't.”

She didn't know why she needed to add that so quickly. Of course she wasn't a spy, no sane person would think she was a spy. Even though he was playing it straight there was no way he could actually think that. Right?

At least at that point Jake took the lead, but he still didn't drop the whole spy thing.

* * *

 

It was kind of like sight seeing. She had been sight seeing before, in other cities, but it was with official tour guides. Which Jake definitely wasn't. He seemed to have lived in the city his whole life, but he didn't know any facts about it (the second most important part of a tour guide's job was knowing information and being able to answer questions. The most important part of the job was not getting lost).

But Jake didn't get them lost. And she got to see stuff that would never make any self respecting tour guide's list of attractions in a million years.

* * *

 

“Do you have sensitive teeth, Amy?”

“Pardon?”

“To cold stuff?” Jake elaborated, but that wasn't exactly what she was confused about. Like she was now certain that he really did ask if she just had sensitive teeth but she had no idea what that had to do with anything. She was pretty certain he was just trying to say the most random things that popped into his head on purpose. She couldn't think of a not random reason to ask if someone had sensitive teeth while they were walking around town.

“Does it matter?”

“Well, snow cones are good if you don't mind crunching ice, but shave ice is better if you have sensitive teeth. But shave ice is funner to eat, I think. I have a friend who calls it mouthfeel, but I refuse to use his terminology,” Jake said and she couldn't stop smiling. He was ridiculous. She didn't know that people like him actually existed. People who were whimsical and hung out all day with strangers for no reason and who said things like 'mouthfeel' (he did say it wasn't his own term, but he also said he refused to use it when he just used it). He was looking into the air as he recounted his reasons but when he looked back to her for her answer and saw her smiling he smiled too.

Amy wasn't used to chain reaction smiling. Like smiling wider and wider building on each other's smiles. It was new and weird- and wonderful.

“Shave ice sounds great.”

* * *

 

Every other spoonful Jake kept asking her to gauge the blueness of his tongue due to the flavoring on a scale from 1 to 10, and she tried to stop at 10 but he tried to get her to keep counting until she informed him it looked like he licked a stamp pad. She tried to get his opinion on hers, but he said watermelon was a bad choice if she wanted to have a tongue color competition (though it wasn't like she was expecting to when she chose the red dyed flavor).

“Can we drop the whole spy thing now? I mean, you weren't serious about that, right? You're not serious about that, right?”

“Aw, but it's so much fun,” Jake wailed and more of waved his head back and forth than he did shake it in his lament before sobering up. “And anyone in their right mind would know you're not a spy the instant they saw you. A spy would be a much better actor. You'd get kicked out of spy school before you were even accepted.”

Amy felt like correcting him and saying that if it was before she was accepted that would mean she was rejected, not kicked out, but she didn't. She was certain that he didn't realize who she was by this point (he would have given himself away hours ago if he had), and she was pretty sure he was joking about the spy thing the whole time but that left a wide open empty space for his motivations in the first place.

“Why'd you come talk to me if you could tell the instant you saw me then? Why are you still here now?”

“You looked lonely.”

Jake was mindlessly stirring what was left of the blue slush at the bottom of his cup like it was the most transfixing thing in existence. He had been lighthearted and fun all day, but he was actually kind of serious now and trying to downplay it. And it hit her all at once that he really was a good person. She had stopped doubting him a while back, but Jake was one of those good people that everyone strives to be. He was spending time with her all day because she looked lonely. Amy had no clue that she gave off the lonely vibe. She didn't feel lonely- most of the time. She had good friends and stuff, and always someone to talk to. She knew who her real friends were. That morning she was thinking that it would have been nice to have someone sitting there with her. It was a nice day out and she had been imagining some company, but she didn't realize that she actually looked lonely.

“And you didn't have anything better to do with your Friday than spend some time with a lonely stranger?” She asked with a smile that was way more affectionate than she intended it to be.

“I had a surprise day off for the first time in a while, and I didn't have any plans. So no, I did not have anything better to do than play spy with you,” Jake went back to teasing, but there was still a seriousness in his eyes. “People watchers tend to think they're a rare breed, but they're not really. Anyone will go there if they're bored enough, and while it may not be the most popular hobby that people actually enjoy, it's certainly not the least. I think competitive coin tossing or high impact badminton might be the least popular hobbies. So I watch the watchers. And normal people if I am people watching. I'm sure I've been watched before too, but I've never caught someone in the act while I'm watching someone else- but the day I do I will walk straight up to them and introduce myself and inform them of the people watching level of inception they played a part in.”

She thought that he was done talking, but apparently the pause was only so he could slurp what was basically blue liquid high fructose corn syrup from the bottom of his cup and she had to fight not to show some level of disgust.

“I wasn't actually going to follow you, you know.”

“Shadow,” Amy corrected him with his own word choice.

“I believe the correct term would've been stalking at that point. Little more than pestering someone at a table. And while it was more of a taunt than an invitation, I'm glad you did it.”

“I'm glad I invited you too.”

* * *

 

This wasn't supposed to happen in real life. Amy had more experience than most in the difference between real life and stories.

If that day was a plot line it would be rejected by every director for being unrealistic. Way past the point of suspension of disbelief for something that would supposedly be nonfiction.

But that didn't matter because it was really happening, and she didn't have to convince anyone of its believability.

* * *

 

“And here we are,” Jake made a grand sweeping gesture over nothing in particular, almost like their incredible destination was just the regular street they were on. That they had been on for a good 5 minutes. It didn't look like anything special, just the same old same old- like he just decided to stop walking the moment the thought hit him, or just when his feet got tired.

“Where?”

“Here,” He patted the building next to the side walk with his hand, made out of red brick rather than the hewn limestone that made up practically everything around them. It wasn't that everything around them wasn't beautiful- because it was. She had never seen anything like the interweaving buildings of the town. Even though it wasn't even or anywhere close to symmetrical, there was a certain aesthetic to how everything was connected, albeit crookedly. But practically everything was that white limestone miss matched and held together with mortar to build the veins of the city. But this red brick building was very out of place, almost smashed in between the limestone on either side, almost like it was from a different century. Grand doors were guarded by gargoyles above some heavy steps, topped by a rain beaten belfry- and it was one of the best things she had ever laid eyes on.

“Where is here?” She asked with what she could only hope was the proper tone of amazement.

“This building,” he emphasized with another affectionate pat.

“You know what I mean, Jake. What is the significance of this building that you wanted to show me? What's it called or what's it for?”

“I 'unno. Just a building as far as I know. I wanted to show you cause it looks cool.”

She had to admit it did look very cool and he was so earnest that she was sure he really had led them there on purpose and his only reason was that he liked the way the place looked.

“You're horrible at this,” Amy laughed. She didn't mean for it to last as long as it did. She didn't mean to laugh at all. So many people got the wrong idea when you started laughing when you were with them, or even just in their general proximity when they didn't say a joke. They took offense, or were worried they were being mocked- even if they knew how unlikely that was and couldn't find anything that they did wrong.

Amy used to get like that. Hell, she still got like that. But she had mostly learned to tune out her old insecurities. But there was always a little bit of young nerdy Amy who assumed that every person within 20 ft of her was watching or laughing at her, and not in a good way.

When she was in movie star mode she was way more confident- the cheers and camera flashes were constant reminders that she was being watched because she had done something well (at least so far in her career). But when she wasn't recognized (whether it was from before when she was mostly unknown or when she was out in a disguise) she didn't have a reason for people to be looking at her unless she was doing something wrong. And even if she was sure no one was paying attention to her and looking at her, there was still that ingrained insecurity that she had done something wrong.

So she tried not to laugh- and to always control it. She used her polite laugh with acquaintances and basically anyone else, and then her real laugh with friends and family that she never had to worry about- what they thought of her or what she thought of them.

But she was using her real laugh with Jake. Using was the wrong word- it implied control. She was experiencing her real laugh. Her real laugh was happening to her, and she had no hope to reign it in. And the funny thing was that she didn't really want to. She wanted to keep laughing her real laugh and never stop. “If you wanted to be a tour guide you wouldn't be accepted, or kicked out. You wouldn't even be rejected. They wouldn't even read your application. Weren't you born here? How in the world are you so awful at this?”

“Technically the hospital I was born at was like an hour away, but it was the closest one at the time. As for the horribleness, I don't recall ever claiming I wasn't.”

During that real laugh of hers she was shaking her head at him and even if she was able to focus, his face would be a blur. When she managed to still herself she couldn't control her smile but she was making plans to immediately apologize because that had to look more than insulting.

But before she could even quiet her voice, she steadied her vision to see his goodnatured smile. His smile that made it clear he just liked to hear her laughing. Nodding along like he agreed with her happiness.

“Funnily enough, I don't recall you saying that either,” Amy smiled when it finally got through to her that as a bonafide people pleaser, Jake wasn't a person she even needed to try to please. “You also didn't tell me you were this bad either.”

“You know what they say happens when you assume, Amy,” he teased tongue in cheek. She expected him to finish the sentence, but it didn't seem like he had anywhere to go. He was leaned up against the very cool looking building only a few feet away from her, and while it was a fine distance for a real one of Amy's laughs and some conversation, it was entirely too far for her liking now.

So she closed the gap and leaned up against the wall to face him not even 12 inches away, her voice comfortably low and not even a subtle attempt at flirting, but he tilted his head towards her and she was reasonably certain the feeling was returned.

“No, I don't, Jake. What do they say happens when you assume?”

She was pretty sure everyone had heard that joke before, but she could let him finish if it kept up this closeness for just a moment longer and wouldn't break them away from whatever this was.

“I don't know either, but you assumed I did, and I'm pretty sure that proves my point.”

Amy's real laugh made another appearance, and this time Jake's laugh joined with hers, and there was no question if it was real or not. She knew without a doubt that she was hearing his real laugh too.

* * *

 

It was just before dusk when Jake said he needed to call an end to their traipsing of town that day so he could go lock up his work place.

“Can I see you again?” Amy asked a little too eagerly, but Jake had to bite down his grin to hide it and failed miserably so she wasn't too embarrassed.

“I think I need to see you first before we talk about again. I've spent all day with you and I still don't even know what your eyes look like. Can I?” He motioned to her sunglasses and she nodded her permission. She forgot she was wearing them most of the day and it seemed like her memories were always in sepia. Until he took them off and she saw his face for the first time in full color. He looked even better and brighter without the shades, and soon his head tilted slightly and he developed a puzzled expression.

“You would've told me if we met before, right? I'm not any good with faces but you look ridiculously familiar without these big ol' things,” his question was goodnatured, but she couldn't believe she didn't even think of this. She always thought ahead and planned for any situation, but she didn't even think of this all day. She actually felt like a normal person for the first time in a long while. She forgot who she was for the first time in her life.

She should have accounted for the possibility that he would recognize her face, and that he would see her face by the end of the night, but she didn't. She was going to tell him, but she hadn't decided if she was going to leave it for the next time they met or when they parted that night. But it was clear she had to do it like now. How was she supposed to say something like that?

She didn't know how long she was silent and had him waiting on an answer, it felt like forever and no time at all. Jake's face began to fall in concern at what was surely showing on her face when her throat closed up before someone yelled from down the street.

“Amy! Amy Santiago!” They both turned towards the screamer and she must have been silent for a while because there were already people gathering with their phones out and coming towards them like vultures.

When she turned back to face Jake he had a horrible look of complete recognition. Just a mix of surprise and betrayal and hurt that was awful to see on him, and before she could even say anything he was already backing up.

“Sorry. I – I have to go,” he almost stumbled over his own feet in retreat and she knew she had to say something so he would wait and wouldn't leave, but she wasn't a quick thinker in situations like these.

Someone pulled on her arm to get her attention and she yanked back, but when she turned around Jake was gone – disappeared into the air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fic that I alluded to last week on tumblr, specifically the one that I got mad at myself for needing to turn into a multichapter before I even had a single part of it actually typed out.
> 
> I'm not counting the spy jokes in this chapter as puns (though in the future there will be James Bond centered puns and not just jokes/wordplay like in this chapter, literal puns). I think the only thing that technically counts as a pun so far is the title, Camera Obscura.
> 
> Which while is a freaking cool thing from history (check out Abelardo Morell's modern photos)  
> I mainly thought it was the perfect title cause  
> 1\. the whole Camera and movie star thing  
> 2\. Obscura  
>  as in from the Latin obscurus  
>  which is also the origin of the English obscure
> 
> so that's it.
> 
> ladililn 's got a quality Jamy celeb AU smut that they put out earlier this month, this is in an AU from her AU, which is an AU from cannon while mine is also an AU from cannon, you feel me?
> 
> And if you wanna get a better picture of what I'm describing with the white limestone buildings basically just google the words "old town Croatia street" and pick out your favorite picture, cause I am just digging those street views.


	2. Cities fall and cities will fade

 

When Amy realized Jake left with no clue of where he was even going, she left too. Ran is more like it. It wasn't a swarm like she'd experienced before, just about 5 people, but she had never felt so crowded in – so she made a mad dash for cover and ran until she found some place to hide.

She didn't even think of paying attention to where she was going until she was well past lost, but so was everyone else that would have tried to follow her.

It was going to get dark soon – but she didn't care. All that she cared about was that she was alone, which was also true. She found herself in just another horribly planned street in the maze of the city. This didn't even deserve to be called a street, or even an avenue. It was a cobblestone path at best with street lights used to class the place up. But at least it was deserted.

One of the buildings had a fire escape accessible from the ground, and she thought it was as good of a place as any to sit down and stop running. So Amy did.

She hid, she breathed, and she cried. It was the crying bit that made it all even worse.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

She was Amy Santiago. Tons of guys wanted to date her – and girls. She was supposed to be wary of people who wanted to know her because she was an actor and in magazines.

And she found someone who didn't even know who she was, and he was fun. He made her laugh. She thought it was going good, too. It was obvious he wasn't just with her today just because she was famous because he didn't even know. She was going to tell him eventually, and sooner rather than later, but she didn't think it would be a big deal. She wasn't supposed to meet guys who didn't want to be with her  _ just _ because she was famous.

That wasn't how this worked.

She wasn't supposed to meet someone who smiled at Amy and not at Amy Santiago.

The whole whirlwind of thoughts in her head just made her sound like a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum. She wasn't so full of herself that she really thought like that. It was just that whole day felt like the best dream she ever had, and she was just ripped into wakefulness and reality. But soon she'd really wake up and go back to calm and always prepared Amy Santiago who hadn't sobbed like this for years.

The stupid thing was that she thought he was going to kiss her. And she had thought Jake would be her first kiss. Amy Santiago had had boyfriends before, and she'd technically kissed them. But every single guy she'd ever dated was a costar first, and they shared an onscreen kiss before even dating off camera. And while they would still be dating when the movie ended, she didn't know why, but not even then did they count as first kisses.

So she thought Jake was going to be her first kiss. And it was so stupid that she was crying over it and over him.

She was an adult. She was one of those jaded Hollywood starlets.

But she didn't feel like that with Jake. She actually felt carefree. And happy.

She wasn't depressed and she liked her life now- she worked hard to get where she was. But there was something so light about him that she had been missing for years – that lightness.

* * *

She cried well into the dark, but even so tried to but her sunglasses back on in the dead of night. But they weren't anywhere on her possession and she realized she must have dropped them. They didn't matter at all. They were just some stupid sunglasses she got the other day. But she just really needed to have them, and to get them back.

She had no clue of how to retrace her steps and she would have tried harder if she hadn't turned the corner and ended up at the same place she started. The last place she saw Jake.

Even though it was night the street lamps provided enough light to prove the sunglasses weren't there either, and she just gave up hope. Amy Santiago was so tired.

If they showed up online in the next few days she resolved to buy them, even though if they were in any pictures taken there were bound to be fakes, she would get them all. She was convinced she would know the real ones when she felt them.

And if they never showed up and no one ever found out they were hers when they picked them up, she just hoped that they realized how important they were and were getting a good use out of them.

Because those stupid sunglasses meant so much to her.

She pulled out her phone to see a lot of missed calls and angry texts from people looking for her, but she dismissed them all to call for a ride.

When she got back to her hotel she collapsed on her bed and slept like the dead.

* * *

Amy Santiago never slept past 7:30 AM. It was her own rule. The only time she lapsed was if she was sick, and then 9:30 AM was the latest she would go.

People kept checking on her because they were certain something was wrong when she still wasn't up by 10 o'clock. It got so bad that she was just yelling at people through the door with her face buried in the sheets and throwing pillows at whoever dared to enter.

She wasn't sure what time she got in last night, but she felt more like she had a hangover than missed out on some quality rest. She came out of her room at 1 pm after a long shower and put on a happy face before apologizing to everyone profusely for making them worry and making up some halfhearted excuse about feeling unwell, but no one called her on it.

* * *

She knew she needed to find him. She could accept if he never wanted to talk to her again, but she couldn't just leave things off ending that badly without trying to fix it. Get a better ending.

So she abused her contacts to find the only Jake Peralta who lived within 100 miles of where they met. While he lived within 100 miles, it would have been more precise to say he lived within 5 miles of where they met.

She wasn't sure a personal stop by would be the best idea, so she sent a note.

* * *

 

_ Not making this any better on myself, am I? I just really need to try and explain myself. But I can't do that on a card. _

_ So go watch Aladdin. Disney. 1992. _

_ I'm not egotistical enough to claim I'm Jasmine, but I'd like to say I'm a mix between Aladdin, her, and Abu. _

_ The magic carpet was always my favorite character because it was the only one with common sense, and I empathized more with an anthropomorphic carpet than the other living characters when I was younger. _

_ So go watch it. _

* * *

 

She waited a few days to send the next note.

* * *

 

_ Friday. Same time, same place we first met. I just want to talk. _

_ Please come, Jake. _

_ Please. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brother recovered my laptop files today, hence the update at last! Woo woo!  
> Hallelujah!


	3. Your eyes are justice

Friday was a week since they had last seen each other. A week since they had first seen each other. Her first worry was that he wouldn't come. Her second worry was that she wouldn't be able to recognize him.

It was absolutely ridiculous because she had no reason to suspect that he would look any different if he did in fact come, and he actually had reason to suspect that about her. But by Friday, his face had begun to fade in her memory like he was a dream.

Of course, when she did see him, it was like she never forgot at all.

He was walking to the same table where a week before he met a lonely looking girl in horrible disguise- but this time there was a girl with the same hat, newspaper, and a very different pair of sunglasses.

And that was when Amy tapped him on the shoulder from behind and he nearly jumped out of his skin like she had the first time.

That day she was in a light brown wig with highlights and clear glasses, but he still smiled when he saw her.

“You actually have to show your license to prove you're under the age of 35 at checkout,” she brandished the very hip (she assumed) fashion magazine in her hand.

“You trying to fake me out? Very convincing decoy,” he motioned back to where her doppelganger was moments before, but she had already left by that point. She had thought that everything was actually fine, but when his eyes settled back on hers, his genuine smile fell into a polite one and she knew this wasn't going to go well. “Very clever, Amy Santiago.”

She shouldn't have snapped at that, but she did. He was using her name like it was some sort of distancing language when it was her freaking _name_. So she tugged him off without a word in the direction of the secluded area she had scouted for before hand, a park that wasn't even a minute away if you walked between buildings. When she got to the shaded tree and ordered him to sit in the grass he immediately obeyed without hesitation.

“In defense of not recognizing you, I am so bad with faces that I recognize people I meet in real life better the first few times by their voice. And you're in all this new stuff my friends have been bugging me to see but I've been pushing off, so I've basically only seen 2x4 gifs of you which don't help with the face or the voice thing. You sound a lot different in real life anyway.” She was beginning to worry she would never see the genuine Jake she knew again, but he was the one who said the last sentence. Everything else was said by some flippant Jake that she was already tired of.

“Did you watch the movie?”

“Yes, I watched the movie,” he said and was starting to fade back into his fake amused voice. She may have only spent a day with him, but that whole day had a time total that was more than some people who knew each other for weeks.

“So you get it?”

“Yeah, I get it,” he sighed. “But I... I can't do this, Amy.”

“This?”

“You know, us.”

And then she understood. She wasn't sure if she was obvious enough on Friday, and was wondering if she would have to play it up or something depending on how this meeting went. She still didn't know how it was going, but at least she was saved the embarrassment of being completely overt.

“Wasn't as subtle as I thought last time, was I?” She asked, and this time it was her with the wry smile trying to downplay it all. “I should have realized that you don't feel that way-”

“No, I do,” he interrupted her before she could finish the thought (which was good because she didn't know where she was going with it).

“Then what's the problem?”

Amy sat down beside him at that point. Until then she had been standing, doing her own little bit of distancing. She didn't sit too close, but much closer than strangers.

“I like you, Amy. I really like you. And that's why I can't do this.”

“I don't get it.”

She really didn't. He was at least talking to her like normal now. Like all those hours they spent together. Compared to the 10 minutes of emotional distance he had gotten into that day.

“I looked you up. You're here for... work. Then you're off to wherever next. And I don't know what you're looking for, but I'm not looking to be left behind. Which is awfully presumptuous of me, because you're- you're Amy Santiago,” Jake chuckled, but it wasn't a happy sound. “And if you want something casual...” He said, then shook the thought from his head to find a better way to phrase it. “You're nice, Amy. You're really nice, and I like you. But I don't want to start something and like you even more and- get attached or some other stupid word like that when you have a dead line to just up and leave some day soon. And you probably don't even want that with a guy like me, but I just know that's how it would be- from my side- so I can't.”

Jake didn't even hint that he was going to make a movement, but for whatever reason she was afraid that he was going to leave again, disappear one more time. She wanted to just grab his arm or shirt or something, to keep him from even considering leaving again. But she didn't. Instead she bumped her knee into his and was comforted by the fact that he didn't move away.

“If you didn't know my last name would you be this reluctant?”  
“Depends. Would Amy Smith have a prior job commitment as iron clad as yours?” He asked with a slight smile, but thank god it was a real one this time.

“And if Amy Smith said she did want something like that with someone like you, would you doubt her too?”

“Is that what you're actually saying? That you want that?” Jake asked when he looked at her. Before he had been staring off at the ground or somewhere in the distance, when she had been watching him the whole time. But now he was searching her eyes with something akin to hopefulness, and he looked relieved when he took in her careful nod and reassuring smile. But a moment later the hesitation returned, so she spoke before he could.

“How about friends? Friends with Amy Santiago until her prior job commitment is up, and Jake Peralta will know she won't leave him behind and he can decide if he wants to be in a relationship then. And if he doesn't then they can still be friends after filming ends too. Because I really like you too, Jake.”

He fidgeted with his lower lip for before answering, and while it wasn't a full and resounding yes it definitely wasn't a no. Even though the question she was asking was if he would consider deciding later, so it wasn't exactly a deal or no deal situation.

“Maybe.”

“I'll be holding you to that maybe,” she teased him, and this time it earned her a full on beam. He suddenly shifted and she was berating herself because she was _sure_ it was going well this time, until she realized he was only trying to take something out of his pocket.

“I think these belong to you.”

She didn't need to touch them to tell they were the real deal, even if they hadn't come from a verified source. She didn't even consider the possibility that she didn't lose them. She couldn't find her sunglasses because Jake was the last one holding them, and he never let them go.

If this was a movie Amy would have made some meaningful gesture and told him to keep them. But this wasn't a movie. And Amy was selfish and wanted to keep the memento all to herself, so she took them.

“Thanks. They're my favorite pair,” she said about the stupid sunglasses she had only owned for a few days before they disappeared, and it was the absolute truth.

She wasn't sure what to say after that, but her phone rang and saved her from the silence. Even though she immediately dismissed the call (probably just her manager wanting to scold her again for sneaking off on one of her few free days) but the moment was ruined.

“Prior commitments?” Jake asked knowingly, and she shrugged in a 'what can you do' sort of way. “My break's running a little long anyway,” he said, and she wasn't sure if he was trying to make her feel better for having to bail or if it was actually true since she remembered him saying last week was one of his rare days off. Either way was nice of him, especially if he was going past his allotted break time anyway.

“So I'm saying goodbye this time, but you can say it next time,” he told her like he was reading from a handbook as he helped her up. And she had to smile because his maybe did leave things off a little ambiguously, but he just said it. Next time.

Then her phone rang again and she knew she probably needed to answer it that time. She turned slightly to reach her phone easier, but froze solid when she felt his lips brush her ear.

“ _You have really nice eyes_ ,” he whispered before kissing her cheek.

* * *

 

Amy wasn't sure how long she stood there, but it was long enough for her cell phone to ring out all the way without intervention, and when she unfroze Jake was gone, but that was okay this time. Because she knew where to find him and she knew there was going to be a next time.

Her hand drifted to where her cheek still tingled. Even though it wasn't what people were usually talking about when they used the term, and it shouldn't have counted more than all of her technical ones before, it did. Besides, it was hers anyway so she got to decide what mattered and what didn't.

Jake Peralta had just given Amy Santiago her first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that sappy enough for you? I think chapter 4 may be coming from Jake's point of view, but I haven't decided on chronology yet, but I promise you will hear some of Jake's thoughts soon.
> 
> In other news, I found a new show the other day called Scorpion and I might have some fics going up for it in the near future, but all of my B99 fics will still be updated regularly so have no fear.  
> I'm conceivably going to be more busier for the next few weeks, so that will take away from my writing time overall, but don't worry if I stop my rapid fire updates :)


	4. More time (with you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally a bit of Jake's POV

Jake didn't believe in love at first sight. Attraction at first sight, maybe, but not love the first time you lay eyes on someone. Either way it wasn't like he even knew what 75% of her face looked like so the sight thing didn't really apply. Jake didn't believe in love at first sight. He wasn't even sure if he believed people could fall in love in a single day. But really, really, really, really liking someone after talking and smiling with them for hours- he definitely believed in that. He really liked her well before the end of the day. He wasn't in love at first sight, but he was in really really like within the first hour. And as the hours increased so did the reallys. By the end of the night he really, really, really, really liked Amy. No – that wasn't quite right.

By the end of the night he really, really, really, really liked Amy Santiago.

* * *

 

Afterwards he wasn't proud of just leaving her there.

That was awful of him to do.

He definitely got the whole hat and sunglasses thing now. She didn't do anything wrong at all. If he had a name like Amy Santiago and was just trying to walk around like a normal person he wouldn't give his name out to a weird stranger named Jake Peralta either. If he hadn't found out the way he did, he would like to think he would have reacted better. If he hadn't found out by someone screaming her name he would like to think it wouldn't have turned out so badly.

He wasn't upset or mad that she didn't tell him, he understood and it made complete sense. Even at that moment that someone screamed her way, it wasn't upsetting. Just shocking. But Jake wasn't good at dealing with anything important, especially with emotions like shock.

He never had an appropriate reaction to any action in his life, so when he was shocked then he just ran away.

She looked horrified, and he ran away.

He hadn't been around a lot of professional actors, but he was reasonably certain that was genuine surprise and horror he saw on her face before he fucking ran away.

* * *

 

He probably should have at least told her goodbye. He would have liked to have told her goodbye. He wished he said goodbye. A real, actual goodbye since he was probably never going to see her again.

He wanted to at least attempt to apologize for taking off, but he didn't even know where to begin. Usually if someone had a unique name it made it easier to find a way to contact them. But Jake would be able to talk to 1,000 John Smiths before he had any hope of reaching an Amy Santiago. If she would even want to talk to him anymore.

It wasn't like she didn't have feelings, and he definitely did enough to hurt them.

And would it even mean anything to her? Coming from someone like him? But she was the same person he was with all day, the same girl who he was having fun with and laughing and smiling. She was the same person.

99% of people would never want to see his face again after he pulled that jerk move with running away. Famous or not most people would probably hate him if he did anything near as horrible as that.

He would have hated himself if he pulled a move like that on himself somehow.

He kinda hated himself for pulling that move on her.

So he didn't have a hope of actually finding a way to talk to her ever again, and even if he could apologize it would at best remind her of how much of a jerk he was, so he just left it at that and tried to be okay with it.

* * *

 

Then she sent him that ridiculous note about a kid's movie. He didn't think he would ever hear from her again, but if he did he was sure it would be some blazing indictment of how much of an asshole he was. If he got anything written from her he would have thought it would be an angry letter or something.

So he wasn't expecting a note that made him smile.

Even though he wasn't expecting it, it was the best thing that could have happened.

* * *

 

Jake was pretty sure he wasn't in the position to turn down a movie star. What? How did he even get in that position? It wasn't like he would ever lead someone on if they were famous or not if there wasn't anything there for him. But he really liked Amy, and she said she really liked him – and he said maybe.

Common sense would dictate that he shouldn't have been anywhere close to refusing.

She was still the same person, so it wasn't just that she was famous (but holy shit was she famous). Amy was nice, and a good person- so it wouldn't end well on her side either when her job commitment ended in the area. And if they were serious and happy with each other and didn't split up after that and tried to come up with a solution, he couldn't think of any way they could actually work it out.

It was completely ridiculous to be thinking about a break up before a relationship even started, but when an ending was so clearly in sight why even start?

Jake had a hard enough time with people and relationships in normal circumstances. He had a hard enough time with people who didn't enter his life with a guaranteed stamp of limited time only.

Jake had loved too many people who weren't supposed to leave, but they did. Why even let it happen when she was always supposed to leave?

He wasn't in love with Amy on their first meeting, or their second. But he knew saying maybe was a bad idea on his part before he even said it. He already liked her so much and if he spent any more time with her it was just going to get worse, a downward spiral tail spin of awful emotions.

From experience, Jake knew he was one of those fall hard and fast people. And if they just had a couple more days like that first Friday... he knew he would fall in love. It wouldn't take long with her. He was already in really really like in the first hour, which was quick even for him.

If he had more time with Amy Smith or Amy Santiago- if he had more time with Amy, he knew he would fall in love.

Only a matter of time.

But how could he say no to friends? When he didn't want to say no to anything?

Common sense would dictate he should have immediately said yes.

Jake Peralta sense who couldn't deal with anything or react right to anything emotional dictated he should have immediately said no.

But what he actually said was maybe. It was a happy medium between the two senses. Or more of like a neutral medium between the two senses, not a happy or unhappy medium.

It didn't make any sense. It was all senseless.

Even though it didn't make sense, he still wanted it. He wanted the time with her even though it went against every bone in his body to risk even being friends with someone he knew was gonna leave from the start. Risk becoming better friends. Risk going to a friendship from acquaintanceship.

But he wanted more time with her. That first day with her was the best day he had had in such a long time. Not because he usually had bad days, but because his days were more or less average. And all those hours that Friday while the number of reallys grew and grew, it was amazing. It was unbelievable, and fun. It was nice.

It was just an all around good day. Talking to her. God, she made him laugh so many times that day. And she had the most ridiculous stories about her childhood, and growing up with all her brothers, and just swapping stories and smiling, and it all felt so natural. It was easy to talk to her. It was easy to smile with her. It was easy to laugh with her.

She was pretty vague about specifics of her adult life, which was understandable considering the whole famous thing and trying to walk around like a normal person. But she didn't lie to him. She left it vague so she didn't have to lie. But all the stories she told him about her family were true (when he looked up who she was Wikipedia corroborated that she did in fact have seven brothers and where she grew up so she didn't make up a persona or anything). And so he knew the real Amy Santiago better after a day than the whole internet, basically. He knew stories about the real person that only her close friends and family knew.

That's when he realized they probably already were friends. He really was screwed. He was already friends with Amy. He shouldn't be worried about going from acquaintanceship to friendship with Amy Santiago, cause he was already past that.

And he was surprisingly okay with it.

Despite all Jake's issues that he would never admit to having in a million years, the fact that he and Amy were friends was a pretty good fact.

 

Yup. He was definitely screwed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys, sorry it's been awhile since the last update of Camera Obscura. 
> 
> And yup, guess I should add abandonment issues to the tag of this fic now too. Whoopsy-daisy. I mean, geesh. I Know You Like the Back of My Hand and Camera Obscura are I guess two fics of mine that I'm really gonna explore Jake's abandonment issues. Fun times all around, right?
> 
> Life's just being life right now and all over the place, but none of my multichapters have been abandoned.  
> Finally, Are You Nervous?, Marco Polo, I Know You Like the Back of my Hand, and The Boy Next Door are all still ongoing (as is Camera Obscura as you probably already assumed).  
> So thanks for your patience and hope you guys are having a good day!


	5. Teach Me How to Burn

**_Light me on fire and teach me how to burn_ **

* * *

The next day Jake found a note on his doorstep. The same pretty and swoopy handwriting as the ones that came before it that made him smile.

 

_I really should have asked for your number last time so I wouldn't have to keep sending you notes like some serial killer or something. So I had some way to contact you other than the creepy serial killer leaving packages on your doorstep sort of way.  
\- Amy S._

 

Underneath her message she wrote her phone number so he could contact her first.

* * *

The first message she gets from Jake isn't a text message. It's not a phone call either. Nope, none of that. The first thing he sends her is a picture. A picture of something obviously hand made and laid out on what she guessed was his kitchen or dining room table.

The first think Jake sends her is a picture he took of a ransom letter he made from newspaper clippings.

 

_Amy S._  
_What if I like serial killer packages?_  
_-007_

 

She can't help grinning like an idiot at it and him. Grinning like an idiot at her phone.

 

_A: How long did it take you to make that? And don't make another ransom note as your answer._

 

It's a good five minutes before he responds.

 

_J: Sorry my hands are all gluey. Too long considering I just now realized I didn't even have to glue it down since I was only ever going to take a picture of it anyway and that there's probably loads of websites that make realistic looking ones for free_

 

_A: So you know what my job is. What does Jake Peralta do for a living if not working for the worst tour guide agency in the world?_

 

_J: I'm a baker_

 

She waits for him to send a JK after that, but he doesn't. She waits for him to send her another message following that along the lines of 'just kidding. That would be the most ridiculous and hilarious thing in the world. My actual job is a lot more boring and I just wanted to get the ball rolling so you'd be more impressed when I told you in reality I'm a post office worker'.

Something along those lines. He had to be joking. There's no way he was a baker. She wasn't even convinced that bakers even existed anymore. Who was a baker? That profession went right out of the job market when candlestick makers went out of style too. But he didn't immediately rescind his joke, and she was left wondering if this was another one of his jokes he was playing straight like the spy thing on the first day they met.

 

_A: …  
Seriously? _

_J: Oh yeah, I got buns, hun._

 

_A: I can't tell if you're messing with me right now over written text. You are joking, right? You can't be serious._

 

_J: As a heart attack. I would put some sort of laughing emoji if I was just kidding around to make my sarcasm readily apparent through text message. Or maybe just put /sarcasm after the sentence. Wouldn't want my satire to be misinterpreted as something not hilarious and not sarcastic. Do you see an emoji or a /sarcasm? Honest to god baker over here._

 

_A: Is anyone actually called a baker anymore? I thought the job title was just chefs and cooks nowadays. You're just messing with me, right? Bakers don't actually exist anymore. Right?_

 

_J: Chefs and cooks work at restaurants. I'm an amazing cook in every area, but I own a bakery, hence the title of baker. Bakeries specialize in sweets and carbohydrates. Basically all that sugary stuff that kids love like cakes and cookies, and more types of bread than you can even name. That's my job and my title. Baker._

 

_A: Pardon me, Mr. Baker for not knowing all the culinary terms that you're apparently an expert in._

 

_J: Pardon granted. And that's sir baker to you._

 

_A: Do you have a website? For your bakery?_

 

_J: It's 2017 Amy. Of course I have a website._

* * *

* * *

 

_A: I'm definitely going to have to try some of your food soon._

 

_J: You can come by if you want. I close at 8 PM today so if you're free you can come by for a private sampling and you won't even have to wear a disguise inside.  
Or someone other time. Whenever. Doesn't matter. No big deal. Just whenever if you even want to._

 

_A: I'd love that. See you at 8._

 

* * *

* * *

She didn't wear much of a disguise this time considering it was already dark out and she'd be driving straight to the address listed on the website. She didn't wear a disguise at all, really. Just pulled her hair back in a simple pony tail, but that was just because she usually had her hair in a tied back unless she was making a public appearance. Tonight, when she went to see Jake again, she just looked like normal, home alone, every day Amy Santiago.

She didn't look like a stranger, but she didn't look like actress Amy Santiago who had a carefully selected wardrobe and had to make sure nothing was out of place whenever she stepped out because if her hair was a little frizzy or god forbid her face didn't look as close to airbrushing as one could get with makeup on a human being she'd be lambasted for it.

Nope, none of that. She didn't look like a stranger, and she didn't look like actress Amy Santiago.

No, tonight she looked like herself.

When she parked in front of the bakery at 8:02 Jake was already standing outside and waiting for her, leaning on the glass windows beside the door.

"You're late," were the first words he said to her when she walked up.

"I'm not late. I was being considerate. You told me to come after closing, and you close at 8:00. If I got here on the dot you wouldn't have time to do whatever closing actually entails here. I'm guessing it's more than just locking the door before you leave. I was being considerate. I was _not_ late," she corrected him so he had his facts straight. Saying that she was late was just slander. Amy was nothing if not punctual.

"I knew it," Jake laughed. "I knew you were one of those people who always had to be on time. I bet you never once got a tardy slip in high school, huh? Tell me the truth: do you have more than one alarm clock?"

"What kind of question is that? You don't strike me as the type of person who shows up any earlier than 15 minutes late," Amy gave him a beyond doubtful look.

Somehow he had her defending her timeliness in just two words. And somehow their banter felt so familiar that she didn't even bother trying to hide her smile at it.

"Oh, I don't. Not at all. Showing up 20 minutes late for a doctor's appointment is good time for me. Is it more than two? The number of alarm clocks you have?" He asked again, grin even wider.

"Three. You gonna let me in now or what?"

* * *

"Oh my god, you weren't kidding," Amy marveled as soon as she stepped through the door and actually got a clear look inside the place. The bell above the door chimed when they entered and when it shut behind them, but she barely registered the sound. She was too busy taking in everything about the place. "This is an actual bakery. This is like a bakery shop. I grew up in Brooklyn and the closest thing we had to a bakery was a doughnut shop and a store that only made fancy wedding cakes. Nothing like this. This is an honest to god bakery. Oh, this is amazing."

"You look like a kid in a candy store," Jake noted with a smile. Amy was walking all around with a look of complete wonder on her face like she'd never seen anything like it.

He'd never seen anything like her.

She might as well be lost in Narnia by the look on her face. She ran her hand over one of the small circle tables for customers to sit at before flitting over to the counter and looking through the glass display by the register. Then there was the rack that held the prepackaged items for convenience like muffins and loaves of bread already wrapped or boxed up for walk ins. She studied all the products that were left on that 5x5 foot metal rack like they were some intricate works of art. Like wood carving made by a master whittler, not just loaves of bread.

"I'm an adult in a bakery. That's close enough."

After it looked like she had her fill of studying her surroundings and turned back to him, he ceremoniously pulled out a chair at one of the tables with a little flourish and offered her a seat. Amy rolled her eyes but sat down nonetheless.

Jake just about to take a seat too in the chair across from her when one of the oven timers dinged in the back room and he immediately popped up.

"Ooo, apology muffins are done! I'll be right back."

While Jake didn't tell her to follow him, he also didn't tell her to stay there while he ran into the other room, so she followed right behind him. Partly out of curiosity of what the heck he was yelling about muffins and apologies for, and partly because she would take any excuse she could get to explore his shop more.

Of course, when she passed the old fashioned arch opening in the wall that separated the front room and the back room she realized that calling this the back room was pretty unfair. It was probably twice as big as the actual service and shop area that she just came from.

While the service area had a modern yet quaint decor with all the simple touches to the room and the tables and chairs for customers, this back kitchen area wasn't modern at all. Well, actually, it was a mix match of extremely modern and extremely old.

All the walls had the same cobbled together lime stone make up as much of the outside of buildings did in this city. In the middle of the farthest wall there was a section of brick work and an opening that Amy had to squint at for a solid 10 seconds before she realized it was one of those brick ovens that she'd seen in historical documentaries from the dark ages. Okay, probably not as far back as the dark ages, but it was still seriously, seriously old. Even the bricks seemed faded by the years they had apparently been worn down by since this place was built, and she was 99% certain there was no way in hell it could be fired up again without burning this place to the ground and was only kept so he wouldn't have to do a remodel. A completely defunct hole in the wall.

In the midst of the seriously old Grimm's fairy tale story book ideas of what a bakery looked like was all the modern instruments and appliances that were needed to make food nowadays. The past and the future collided right here in this kitchen.

Stainless steel counters, more complicated and shinier ovens than she even knew existed that seemed like something more out a sci-fi show than a shop that sold bread and cookies. Industrial sinks, towering racks with baking sheets in tow, two extremely long work tables (one of shiny, shiny metal and one of wood), not to mention what she was pretty sure was a walk in at the back corner, and she didn't even want to try and guess how much and of what type utensils were in all the cabinets she saw.

The clash between the historical worn and torn brick cobblestone with all of the appliances of stainless steel (the metal work table especially looked closer to a sanitized operating table than a bread table) had a jarring effect to say the least.

She barely even noticed Jake opening one of the ovens and pulling something out until he was standing right back up before her; holding a pan of muffins with pink oven mitts to boot.

"Apology muffins?" She asked, following him back to the table they were just sitting at where he put the pan down. He motioned for her to take a seat and made quick work of extricating the muffins from the pan with some sort of metal tool and placing them all on a plate she hadn't even seen him grab. It didn't even take 15 seconds to get all 12 muffins on the plate without damaging them at all with his special magic muffin tool. Anything Amy tried to cook ended up in flames, so she had stopped trying long ago. Her mother was a good cook, though, and when Amy was younger and tried to help get freshly baked muffins out of a pan she always tried her best to be so careful with a knife or a spoon to get the muffins out in one piece, but it always ended up looking like a massacre.

It only took Jake 15 seconds before she had a plate of 12 warm, delicious smelling, perfect looking muffins on a plate before her. He sat down across from her, both of them sitting at the small table with the plate of muffins between them.

"What are apology muffins? Are these apology muffins? What are these then?" Amy pointed down at them with a raised eyebrow, still pretty confused. She wondered if he just made something up or if apology muffins were an actual real and specific thing with a weird name like Angel's food cake.

"My own recipe," he beamed. "Trial and error until I found the perfect recipe to use when softening people up so my apologies go over easier. Trust me, you're going to be in a much more forgiving mood after you taste them."

"You're apologizing to me? What do you need to be forgiven for? If I had any baking skills whatsoever I'd be the one who needed to make apology muffins, not you."

"What do you have to apologize for?"

He looked genuinely confused, like he couldn't possibly fathom a reason for why she needed to tell him she was sorry. How did he not get that? How could he possibly not know that?

If it was anyone else she would've suspected they were playing dumb as some extra sort of punishment before accepting her apology. Amy hated being wrong, and hated admitting she was wrong even more - her friends and family knew that and would pull something just like this when she was asking for forgiveness.

Even with the stuff she felt horrible about and extremely guilty (like this), she still wasn't very good at apologies. Even when she tried to do them right because she was truly sorry and wanted the person she was apologizing to know that. Even when she tried so hard to do a perfect apology for someone she sincerely regretted hurting it never came out right.

If it was anyone else, with how obvious it was what she did wrong she would've expected he was messing with her by pretending not to know what she meant so she'd have to say it out loud.

But this was Jake. Jake with the kind smile and the warm laugh, who spent hours with a stranger because she looked lonely.

She remembered the first five minutes they knew each other. Sitting at a small circle table in the public square, his kind eyes dancing in the sunlight. And his smile. God, his smile. She remembered how much she wanted to trust that stranger's smile. How much she wanted to trust his smile. Even though she didn't know why and it went so far against common sense, she wanted to nonetheless. She remembered that want. It went against all reason to trust someone you didn't know because of their smile.

And the funny thing was, it was still the same in his bakery that night.

It wasn't any different, that first time sitting with him in the sunlight to this time, sitting with him in the moonlight.

It hadn't changed. Sitting across from him right with a plate of muffins between him, looking at his smile. That hadn't changed a bit.

She didn't trust Jake because of his smile.

It was stupid to trust someone because of their smile.

So she didn't. She didn't trust Jake because of his smile.

She trusted him because she knew him.

"What don't I have to be sorry for? That whole preventable fiasco was my fault. How that ended up happening and how it went down. I should've told you sooner. That never would have happened if I didn't wait so long to actually tell you that day. I should've told you sooner. A lot sooner. I should've told you way before that day ended the way it did. That's what I'm apologizing for. I'm sorry for that. For not telling you sooner. Who I was."

"Why would you apologize for that? You being who you are it would be legitimately concerning for your mental sanity if you told me any sooner. I mean, it was fun and great and so weird. I knew it was strange when I just thought we were both everyday normal people, but it was fun. But you knowing that you're Amy Santiago and I'm just an everyday stranger- with someone like you someone like me was beyond suspicious. You would've been crazy to tell me right away. Like I'm sure you would've told me eventually cause we were gonna meet again and it wouldn't take that long to figure out after another meeting, but you definitely should not have told me any sooner."

Amy chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to think of a way to reformat her apology considering his argument. Just because what he said actually made sense and was a pretty logical conclusion didn't mean she felt any less bad for what happened. It didn't make her want to apologize any less, it didn't change how much she wanted him to know she was sorry. Even though he was smiling all light and kind across from her right now and telling her she had no reason to be sorry. It didn't change the fact how much she wanted him to know she was sorry, regardless of anything he did or said.

"Well, then I'm apologizing for not telling you in a better way. The way it happened was a pretty horrible way for you to figure it out."

"When were you gonna tell me?" Jake smirked.

She found that she couldn't feel bad when he was grinning like that. Leaning in across the table, lips quirked in amusement- like they were sharing some secret or something. The mischievousness she had pinned down the moment they met. And Jake was right. The day they met- it was so weird. And he was right that it was great and fun too. The best.

Sitting across from him right now when it was just so light and happy- the both of them- this was the best too.

"Definitely by the end of that night, if it hadn't ended the way it did," Amy dragged her finger along the edge of the plate in a moment of self consciousness. She then realized they had probably cooled down enough to eat, so she grabbed one and took a bite to eat to give herself a moment to think.

"Holy crap, this is really good," she blurted out, hand covering her lips since even though it was rude to talk with food in her mouth she at least had some table manners. Jake laughed pretty hard at her surprise that he was actually really good at his job, and all she could think was that she wanted to hear him laugh like that again.

"Anyway," Amy began again after swallowing that heavenly bite and trying to get back to the point his delicious baking skills had interrupted. "Definitely that night. And if we got as far to the glasses and you kinda recognizing me I probably would've just blurted it out 15 seconds later. If that person didn't scream. You weren't expecting it because duh, but I should have been expecting it, or at least expecting the you recognizing me part. That's what I should have accounted for and done better. What do you think you need to apologize for?" She asked.

Midway through her speech his face dropped into a much more serious look and she congratulated herself for saying something stupid again. She wasn't sure which part did it though, which part made his smile fall as quick as it did. Or if it was just the whole crappy reminder as she detailed the worst part of that night one more time.

"For just like… taking off."

Jake picked the bran off a muffin with an intense amount of focus as he spoke in a voice much softer than she'd ever heard from him before. Much more serious than she'd ever heard from him before. His gaze lowered to stare down at his task instead of looking her in the eye.

"Sorry for, you know, the first time. I'm not the best at… stuff. Over-react, under-react, or don't react. Never just react. Like appropriately," he tried again after clearing his throat, still focused on the bran muffin before him.

"It's good you're aware of that," Amy nodded thoughtfully like the idiot she was.

" _Excuse you?_ I'm being emotionally vulnerable over here and all you have to say is my self awareness is healthy or something?"

"That's not what I meant! I-" she rushed to correct her complete insensitivity until she saw how wide he was grinning. Then she thought back and realized that was his sassy voice. That was his jokey sassy voice just now. What she said was still incredibly insensitive, but he was teasing her about how insensitive she is. Joking. She didn't actually offend him.

Not to mention it was clear he was getting a kick of how flustered she was trying to cover herself.

Amy narrowed her eyes.

"I meant it _exactly_ like that."

* * *

"You know, you have a horrible poker face. I thought actors were supposed to have good poker faces. Almost as good as those million dollar professional poker players. But your poker face is horrible. Just the worst."

"I do too have a good poker face!" She shot back defensively. "I have a _great_ poker face. I'm just not trying to do it right now, so you've never seen it."

"Okay, do it right now. Best poker face you got. Three, two, one... Go!"

She was caught a little off guard but she steeled herself in a moment at his challenge and stared right back at him, expressionless.

Then he just started smiling. Slight at first, then wider and wider. He raised his eyebrows like he was inviting her to break her to break character with an expectant and knowing smirk. Jake started shaking his head with a smugness that was completely undeserved and she bit her tongue as hard as she could to hold herself in because _dammit_ , she was better than this. He was _not_ going to get her to smile just from grinning at her like he already won before they even started. Jake being all cocky with his stupid smug smile wasn't going to break her, it wasn't.

Her face was a carefully crafted display of indifference. This wasn't a don't smile challenge, this was a poker face challenge, meaning that even if she pursed her lips so she wouldn't smile that would be losing. Amy had a lot of practice with completely useless challenges every time her family went on a roadtrip when she was a kid and her brothers and herself always made up games and challenges to keep themselves from dying from boredom. It also worked as a way to keep them from trying to kill each other crammed in tight for hours straight. And you know what? She came out on top of a whole lot of those challenges. So yeah, she had a lot of practice with dumb, worthless challenges- paired with her hypercompetitive nature that meant she had this in the bag. Or at least she should have.

She relaxed all the muscles in her face, even slowed her breathing and blinking rate to create the completely uninterested and apathetic picture. And she was nailing it. She could tell from the impressed look in his eyes that he was trying to hide that she was nailing the blasé poker face right now. Amy tapped her fingers on the table with the most bored face she could muster.

Suddenly Jake just started laughing, and she broke. Just broke out laughing. It hadn't even been two minutes yet when he started cracking up, and his sudden laughter triggered a laughter response of her own and she was finished.

"That doesn't count!" She freaking giggled as she pressed her fist to her lips because she couldn't even stop laughing before she could demand a rematch.

"Why doesn't it count? Because you lost?" Jake taunted, and she laughed even harder.

"You cheated!"

His hand flew to his chest and he gasped at her accusation like she just questioned his moral integrity in this poker face contest.

"Did not!" Jake said, acting beyond scandalized even though she could see the flicker of laughter in his eyes. "How would I have cheated? I didn't even say anything. I didn't even touch you! Poking you or tickling you- that would have been cheating. Saying stuff would not be cheating, but I didn't even do that either. I didn't cheat. You're just a sore loser."

"I don't know what you did, but I know you did something. I don't break that easily."

" _Sure_ you don't."

* * *

 

It wasn't long before he was back to making jokes and teasing her with that grin of his that she was way too fond of. There was never much of a break between his bouts of laughter that night with her, and she didn't really mind.

She was laughing too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how long I've been planning for Jake to be a baker in this fic? Since 20-freaking-15. Not even kidding here.  
> I more or less write the bare bones of a lot of fics/fic ideas in my phone, like note to selfs but not. Anyway, looking back at my notes from yonder past, the first note I have mentioning making Jake a baker in Camera Obscura is from 11/17/2015. Before I even published the first chapter of this. Freaking gosh dangit.
> 
> Hopefully the 4,500 word count makes up for how long of a wait this update has been.  
> And oh yeah, I've officially hit two different fanfiction favorite AU's with Camera Obscura. Celebrity AU and Bakery AU. At the same time. Boo yah.  
> -  
> I would like to reiterate that none of my multichapter fics have been abandoned, I swear.  
> Thank you for your patience. I promise that Finally, The Boy Next Door, Marco Polo, Are You Nervous, and I Know You Like the Back of My Hand have not been abandoned. None of my multichapter fics have been abandoned, I've just been so totally awful at updating them in a timely manner.
> 
> Thank you for your patience, and I hope everyone has a nice day!


	6. The way he says goodnight

It's surprisingly easy to fall into the habit she knows as Jake Peralta.

Took no time at all.

She didn't even notice- how suddenly this was her routine. He becomes part of her daily routine without even trying- without either of them even trying. Or even really noticing.

Jake becomes part of her daily routine, and they just sorta... fall into place.

She falls into this habit of hers very quickly. This habit called Jake.

There's no developing, it just... happens. He becomes a habit of hers, and it's absolutely effortless.

* * *

And, just by the nature of daily routines, Amy Santiago becomes part of his.

There's no warning, it just... happens. She doesn't even have to try.

* * *

* * *

  _It's almost midnight. She's been here for hours. Out of the 12 apology muffins that started out on this plate, there's only 4 left. They're so good, but even though they finished off 8 muffins between the two of them over the course of 3+ hours, she's so stuffed she thinks she might die if she tried to eat anymore. She definitely gets how these won the best recipe for softening people up for maximum forgiveness. They were so good and mouthwatering and extremely unhealthy. The bran might have tricked her into thinking these were some of those healthy muffins until she took her first bite and she found out that no, these are desert muffins, and goddamn good ones at that. The brown sugar on the... the top bit? The top part of the muffin with bran sprinkled on top was like a brown sugar shell that crumbled apart and melted in your mouth. It was so delicious it was probably a crime._

_And after they had been sitting and talking here for three hours she was pretty sure she would die if she tried to eat one more. But it was seriously tempting._

“ _Alright Mr. Spy catcher, What did you think the real reason was for my disguise the whole day? If you could **instantly** tell I wasn't a spy?” She teases. “When we were traipsing around town for hours? What did you actually think was the reason behind my disguise for the first, what, 8 hours we knew each other? The obviously intentional, cliché but effective way of obscuring almost 75% of my face? When you knew I wasn't a spy and actor in incognito mode didn't even cross your mind as a potential reason? What did you think the actual reason was behind my disguise when we were spending the whole day together?”_

“ _Truthfully?” He lets out a breath. “I was wondering if you had a wicked cool scar, which makes me look like even more of a dick cause I asked you to take off the sunglasses when we were still out in public when I thought you might be self conscious about cool scars, but I do a lot of things without thinking, like making that joke. About seeing you again. I would have brushed it off a second later when I realized how stupid it was of me to do that if you hadn't done it so quick like you did.”_

* * *

“ _I think you need to work on your people skills,” Jake teases her after she gets all flustered trying to take back her insensitive self awareness comment before she realized that he was, well, teasing her. “I thought that was like, a thing. Actor extroverts. Don't you kinda make your livelihood working well with other people?”_

“ _My people skills are fine, thank you very much,” she replies all snarky, reveling in the smile she spreads across his face. “And what are you trying to say? That I have no tact or something? I have good tact. I have **great** tact. I think you saying that I don't have any tact shows that you don't have any tact,” she shoots back._

“ _One,” he starts his list, holding up a finger, “I never said the word tact. You're the one who brought in the word tact cause you were thinking it cause you know it's true. That's not me being tactless. That's me being candid. Either way it's not me insulting you, just making an observation. And I'm not even saying you're bad with people, cause you're super polite. But you're super easy to fluster,” he gives her a knowing smile with raised eyebrows, and she had to admit, he got her there. “On Friday I obviously knew you weren't a spy, but if halfway through the day you listed five jobs and one of them was an actor and you told me to guess the real one, I never would have guessed actor cause it was so unlikely. If you said you were either a prison guard or an actor, I would have gone with prison guard with no doubt at all.”_

“ _Why?” She asks, tilting her head to the side. He was clearly being sincere, and she was curious to say the least about his reason. Curious about his answer._

“ _You have a horrible poker face. And I dunno, you don't seem like you'd be able to hide what you're actually feeling all that well,” he shrugs, still soft and sincere._

_Her heart beat speeds up, taking her by surprise. It was a pretty innocuous and unassuming statement. She didn't know why that would make her heart beat faster. That sentence. She didn't know why such an assuming statement would make her heart race. That's not a statement that would set off anyone's heart to beat in double time. Why in the world did it set her off? It didn't make sense. At all. She didn't get it._

_Until she did._

_It clicked when she realized she had heard it before._

_She definitely got it when she realized it was familiar and why. Once she placed it._

_It totally clicked why her heart beat sped up just now when she realized she recognized it and remembered where from. From Jake. She's heard it before from him._

_It was the second time they met._

* * *

  _ **You sound a lot different in real life anyway.** _

* * *

  _It's the same voice._

* * *

  _ **You have really nice eyes.** _

* * *

_It's the same voice. Like a day dream. It's soft, low, and lovely. That same rhythmic low, subdued in sincerity, it's genuine, gentle, and calm. She swears she can feel it resonant in the air._

_It was just about the most soothing sound she ever did hear. Except, maybe it didn't count as soothing when it made her heart race whenever she heard it. Made her breath catch._

_She... she didn't know how to describe it._

_Amy prided herself on her large vocabulary, but when she really needed it (actually, just wanted it), it wouldn't come through for her. Trying to find a word for his voice, this voice of his, this specific voice of Jake Peralta's that was without a doubt her favorite sound, she was coming up completely, absolutely blank. She couldn't do it justice._

* * *

  _ **You have really nice eyes.** _

* * *

  _ **You sound a lot different in real life anyway.** _

* * *

  _But it's not just- it's not like he just has a nice voice or something. It is true that he has a nice voice, and she liked hearing it more than she would ever care to admit. Jake has a nice voice period- his voice when he's all excited, when he can barely hold back his laughter when he's trying to tell someone a **hilarious** story, the way he says hello- _

_Anyway, Jake had a good sounding voice period. The sound his vocal chords produced was a nice sounding... sound._

_This voice of his- right here- the sincere and and rhythmic humming of a voice- the sound wasn't all that it was._

_This tone and cadence, this low, resonating rumble right here- it was so much more._

_It wasn't what his voice sounded like, it was what she could hear in it._

_How satisfied and, like, peaceful he's feeling. Like he'd gladly stay here for the rest of his days cause he's found true, inner contentment here and now._

_Or... something like that._

_She still didn't think that description did it justice. It was so much more. There wasn't any way to describe it. There weren't any words that could pin it down._

_Yup._

_That's why her heart was racing right now._

* * *

 “ _It was lucky that I'm good with names and that Peralta is spelled like it sounds. I don't know if I'd have ever found you otherwise. Which, admittedly, sounds pretty creepy and stalkerish, but I only wanted to find you again so I could say I was sorry and never bother you again. I couldn't exactly put an ad in the newspaper saying 'To the stranger I met in the public square and played spy all day with, I'm very sorry'. If anyone even reads newspapers these days,” she chuckles, and it feels so good to hear him laugh along with her.  
_

“ _Even though I was invited to shadow you if you'll recall, it's only fair that you get to throw in a bit of stalker tendencies yourself.”_

“ _Call me crazy, but I don't think stalking is one of those 'eye for an eye' things. Stalking isn't a mutual activity, by definition. At best we'd half to switch off. Take turns. There always needs to be at least **one** unwilling participant to be stalking. I can't imagine that someone turning around and stalking their stalker would make that stalker of theirs anything other than absolutely thrilled.”_

_By this point Jake's just cracking up. Throwing his head back as he laughs ridiculously hard when she was just trying for a chuckle or two- she didn't think she would be able to make him laugh like this._

_She didn't know she would be able to make him laugh this much. The full and resounding laughter, that pulled her into laughing just as hard as he was. Had to laugh and join him._

_She didn't know she could make him laugh like this._

_She likes making him laugh._

* * *

* * *

 They become a normal part of each other's day rather quickly, just slip into place. There's no real transition. It just happens effortlessly, so much so that it slips past both of them once they've crossed the point that talking to each other everyday is normal.

* * *

 She gets frighteningly used to spending every free moment on her phone, either replying to whatever nonsense he just sent or carrying on their conversation right where they left off.

Their phone calls become part of her _routine._

Usually the only person she calls with any sort of frequency is her mother. Most of her communications with people on her phone are through texting, cause that's just how the modern world works now (right?) Her mom is the only one she talks with on the phone for the most part.

At least, that used to be the case. Most people text each other these days, purely out of convenience.

Jake Peralta is not like most people.

It's not _that_ much hassle to get away since production hasn't even started yet, so they see each a lot. (Her favorite hangout spot is of course his bakery after hours, it smells _so good,_ and it's close and easy to get to, not to mention private).

And their phone calls become part of her daily routine.

Usually around 9 or 10 PM, when Amy is unwinding from the long day and Jake is getting ready for the next one. She'll be lying on her bed and talking to him on the phone, and he'll be talking to her on speakerphone as he, well, bakes in the background. He opens at 7 AM, so this is part of his daily routine. Getting everything ready and preparing for opening up shop tomorrow, mixing stuff, making stuff, baking stuff, his phone next to him on the counter, Amy on speakerphone and they just... talk. About nothing and everything, and they never run out of things to say.

* * *

 “You always say you have to call at 9 because you can't text at 9 because your hands are busy baking, but you're the one who always says 9. You know you wouldn't have that problem any other hour, right? You say your hands are busy, but you're the one who instigated 9:00 conversations when your hands are always busy at 9:00. You say you have to call because you can't text right now, but you're the one who insists on this time frame. You realize you're doing that?” She teased him in the middle of one of their nightly phone calls. They'd already been talking for 15 minutes by that point.

“Maybe I like hearing your voice,” Jake's voice spilled over the phone. It was dipped down and softened in sincerity, and she could picture him kneading the bread with a hyper-focus as he tried to distract himself from saying serious stuff that he always got tripped up on.

She actually wasn't sure what he specifically had his hands on at that moment since this conversation was taking place over the phone (he could be making some of his to die for muffins, or cookies, or really any other bakery product of his)- but she knew exactly what he looked like.

She knew exactly what the scene looked like- what _he_ looked like, when she heard him say that.

His jaw clenched, the corner of his lips turned down just a bit, his posture a little worse for wear as he hunched over the task before him, concentrated all of his intensity on it, his hands working his tension _into_ it, trying to distract himself a bit from serious things that he was never really comfortable with. Never really good at it.

“Oh...” she responded, too surprised to think of anything better. Which she followed up with a long pause.

It was a few seconds into that pause of hers when she realized that was _not_ the right way to respond to that. She was completely taken aback and had no clue what to say, and all Jake heard was her say 'oh' and then a five second silence. More than five seconds, now.

He couldn't see her silly, self conscious smile, or the look on her face when his words made her chest warm and fill with stupid, ridiculous butterflies. Of course he couldn't see any of that, all he could hear was silence from her on the other end of the phone.

When she realized her prolonged silence probably didn't sound too good from his side of the phone, she kinda panicked (only _a little_ ) and getting flustered on top of the fluttering in her chest definitely wasn't doing her any favors, but she needed to make sure he didn't misinterpret her silence as something bad.

She would be dying if the situation was reversed, which of course didn't make her flounder any less, and probably made her flounder even more.

She really needed to correct herself or something to make sure he didn't misinterpret her silence as something bad. Especially when he said something like that. She didn't want him to think the wrong thing and be embarrassed when he just said something really nice and sweet that made her heart all fluttery.

But the fluttery stuff on top of the fluster, when she was thinking about how freaked out she would if she said something like that and got a dead silence from him- it didn't do her any favors when she scrambled to correct the wrong impression she (may have/almost definitely) gave him.

“I- I do too. Yours. Your voice. Hearing it. It's nice. With the- with the calling. I don't even know if I could get to sleep without these calls. Wait, that sounded weird. I meant- circadian rhythm, you know?” She forced out a chuckle that was completely unconvincing with her strained, high pitch voice as she rushed to fix this.

She had actually started pacing in her room, physically and metaphorically scrambling as she launched into a defense of her awkward statement due to _circadian rhythm_.

“Like they say- they say to set up a routine every night, so your body recognizes that it's time to start winding down and, and melatonin, and to do the same thing every night so you can fall asleep on time. That's what they say to do. Experts. Establish a routine before bed time. Same thing every night, for the- it's like a brain chemical thing. That's all I meant. An established routine before going to bed every night helps with melatonin production so you can actually fall asleep on time right when you go to bed. And, like, talking to you on the phone at 9 PM is, it's like my routine that _you_ established. So even if I really hated hearing your voice at 9 PM every night, it'd majorly disrupt my sleep schedule if you even just started texting instead of calling every night. Even if I hated hearing your voice at 9 PM it would wreak havoc on my sleep schedule if that suddenly stopped. So don't do that. And I do- like hearing your voice. It's nice. Talking on the phone- phone calls, I like talking to you too, Jake. Honestly, most of the time when I'm using my phone to communicate with someone, 90% of that communication is texting. You know, you don't really call someone these days unless you have to, right? It's a whole lot more convenient texting your friends than calling them most of the time. The only person who I regularly call just to talk is my mom, really. My brothers and I text each other most of the time. I'm not even kidding, the only person I talk on the phone with as much as you is my own mother. And... I totally forgot where I was going with this and feel like and idiot.” She finally ended her ramble with an exaggerated exhale. “...How close are you to laughing right now?”

She couldn't even shake the smile out of her voice when she shook her head at herself, completely giving up.

“Pretty close,” Jake chuckled.

That just made her start chuckling too- genuinely this time.

“Hey, Ames, do me a favor and never become an international espionage agent, because you will get yourself killed in no time. And whoever else is on your secret spy team. You're gonna get everybody shot. Like super quick. Some foreign dignitary is going to ask a question that you don't know the answer to, you'll get flustered, they'll realize something's up, and then they're gonna shoot you. Spy school is not something for you. Don't quit your day job. It's not worth the training when you won't even be able to pass a polygraph. You'll be killed before you even make it to a polygraph machine by the enemy. They'll figure out you're lying on the first day and straight up murder you then and there. Super secret spy is not a dream worth pursuing,” Jake informed her with an air of importance like she should be writing all of this down.

She couldn't help but think about how much she loved the sound of his voice, especially when she could hear how big his smile was right now.

“For your information, polygraph machines have been considered unreliable and useless for years now, and any self respecting espionage agency would have phased them out well over a decade ago. Polygraph results have been viewed as unreliable for _years_ , and they were notoriously easy to beat,” She corrected him.

“Well, color me impressed. And remind me to never enter a trivia contest with anyone but you as my partner.”

“Yeah yeah, you suck up,” Amy rolled her eyes at his transparent attempt at flattery.

Jake laughed again.

If Amy loved hearing Jake's voice over the phone, she didn't know what to say about what she felt every time she heard his laugh on the line. Safe to say, it was one of her favorite things to hear. Jake's laugh. Jake's real laugh. She loved the sound. She loved hearing his laugh, his voice right now.

“Hey, Amy?”

“What?”

“... Thanks,” he told her, his tone dropped down into that same soft sound.

There's that fluttering in her chest again, all warm and fuzzy.

“You're welcome, Jake.”


	7. Cornerstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because what is a get together AU fic that doesn't involve a talk to the best friend conversation?

"I wanna hear more about Baker Boy," Sam demanded, and by her tone of voice it was clear that _no_ was not an option.

"Do you have to keep calling him that?" Amy was tempted to do more than just shake her head with a sigh, but she held back on the general annoyance she's gotten after telling her friend about Jake (and his job). "You make him sound like the worst super hero to never exist."

"Never say never, Amy. They're coming out with a new superhero movie three or four times a year now. Baker Boy could just be the next installment of the lamest cinematic franchise in a few years."

At that, Amy did actually have to groan.

It wasn't like she had any line of defense to fall back on, other than burying her face in her hand and groaning. Amy was sitting on the floor of her room, meanwhile Sam's head was upside down and hanging off the side of her bed as she pressed Amy for more details. Though, she supposed, it was her fault for inviting her fellow costar/worst best friend ever in to hang out and talk in the first place (when she had been teasing Amy about the new guy she met and dubbing him Baker Boy ever since she found out what he did for a living two days ago). Sam's hair wasn't even that long, but she was hanging so far off the bed that it was swishing against the floor, and her face had gone pink from all the blood rushing down to her head, and Amy struggled to hold back a laugh when she looked back up and saw just how ridiculous Sam looked.

"You look like you're about to pass out," she chuckled. "Seriously, there's no way hanging your head upside down for so long can be good for your health."

"Ugh, fine, I'll be responsible for once if it'll make you happy," Sam huffed in that affectionately whining way before flipping over to lie on her stomach. "Woah, you were right. Major headrush." She paused a moment to steady herself. "... Anyway, now you have to tell me more about Baker Boy."

"The first thing I told you about him was that his name is Jake. Yet you still keep insisting on calling him Baker Boy," Amy reminded her with a pointed look.

"Yeah, cause my name's better. But do go on."

"What am I even supposed to say? I've already told you a lot about him."

Sam gave her one of those ' _oh really_ ' looks, the highly doubtful raised eyebrow one specifically. Maybe unimpressed was the right word. Sam gave her a completely unimpressed _oh really_ look, like she was waiting for Amy to get why she deserved that look in the first place.

Which she didn't.

"What?"

"You have told me _nothing_ about him," she said, which was a total exaggeration because by the conversation it was clear that Amy had told her at least two things about him. "And don't get all technical about how you've given me baseball stats. I want you to _actually_ tell me about him."

"Baseball stats?"

"Name, occupation, etc." Sam clarified. "Come on, I wanna hear more about your budding romance. You guys had just about the cutest meet cute of all time. You only told me about the first week you met, really. And I have not gotten any updates since the beginning, man. How many nightly phone calls have taken place since then? I wanna know how things are going _now_. So spill."

"You knew about those?" Amy blushed a bit.

Sam nodded vigorously, and Amy sighed in defeat.

"It's not a... It's not a budding romance. I don't even know what it is. It's not a budding romance, but... it _is_ something. I think. Maybe. It's kinda hard to tell when we've already acknowledged that there is something there for the both of us, and now there's just... whatever this is is happening. It's much harder than I expected it to be. Because he's just so nice and sweet and cute, and it's so much harder to resist kissing him when we've both already... um, confessed to- uh, feeling stuff. About each other. It's so hard _not_ kissing him, Sam. Especially with his stupid cute smile that is so stupid and so cute. But, I mean, I don't know..." She trailed off, chewing on the inside of her cheek with her serious thinking face on. "It... It seems like something might be- not quite progressing, but, like, growing or something. Maybe. I'm not sure what, but it feels like something's... building."

Amy looked up to see Sam grinning, and as annoying as she could be, Amy could always count on her to be annoying _and_ supportive and make her smile too. Here was no different.

"Wait, wait, wait. Imma go make some popcorn, and then you can tell me literally _everything_ ," Sam said before getting up and doing just that.

Amy groaned and knocked her head against the side of the bed, but she still waited patiently for Sam to come back because popcorn _did_ sound good right now. Even if she was going to have to answer every question her nosy but well meaning friend had for her.

Because, _come on,_ _ **popcorn**_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With regards to updating this fic and all my other multichapters-  
> All in the course of a single month I have  
> 1\. had college finals  
> 2\. broke my leg  
> 3\. moved over 300 miles away  
> 4\. had to get everything together to transfer to my new university for this spring semester. It's been quite the past couple weeks for me. Blah.
> 
> Would it help if I said that comments make my fibula heal faster? Because I will shamelessly milk this broken leg for all its worth if so. Milk it all the way home.


End file.
